


Picture Frame

by ewecanwrite



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, I haven't written in so long, M/M, Other, Please be gentle, gender neutral reader, inspired by a tumblr post, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 20:53:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14860124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewecanwrite/pseuds/ewecanwrite
Summary: Hanzo Shimada is an observant man — and "observant" is an understatement.





	Picture Frame

**Author's Note:**

> Haven't written a fully fleshed out fic in so long. Please be gentle. This fic was inspired by @/overdrivels and @/kiryuva‘s post from tumblr.
> 
> Also posted on my tumblr: ewecanwrite.tumblr.com

Hanzo Shimada is an observant man — and "observant" is an understatement.

Growing up as the eldest son within a prestigious (criminal) family had influenced him in more ways than one could count. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, his upbringing has majorly shaped him. 

"You are a Shimada." His father once told him. "You must never forget that."

He is a Shimada: a man of iron strength, unwavering courage, and a steel gaze. Nothing slips past his observant eye. He's always thinking, always analyzing — figuring out the who, what, how and why of everything he notices.

So when he notices his — their — picture frame gone, he's a little bothered.

It's not like you didn't want to see it, right? 

After all, you had decided to put it there in the middle of your shared apartment so both of you could see it. You both slept on separate bedrooms for the sake of decency (for moving in together felt too exciting and nervewracking and new. Hanzo didn't like the idea of sleeping separately; you did decide to buy this house because the rest of the team kept asking for you two to "get a room.") Hanzo could have developed a second picture, but he felt that it was unnecessary if — when — you two finally sleep in the same bed.

He's not sure what to do when he notices, though. In a fight, he's trained to think of split-second decisions between life and death. This isn't a fight, though; this is the relationship between you and him, and a fight was the last thing he wanted. This is a (probably) non-lethal decision, at least, with no deadline. It's pressuring — even more so than split-second decisions.

It takes him a while to finally gather his thoughts. There's never a right time to bring it up; never a good time. Some news about Talon agents or a reckless teenage gang up to no good would blast through their computers and they'd have to scramble to Overwatch headquarters, which wasn't very far from their humble abode. Then, they'd be swept up in the action of an attack; come home exhausted and get knocked out cold the moment they slammed head-first into their beds; and then wake up only to find another mission in their comms.

It's about two weeks later when he finally brings it up. It's been bugging him since then, and you notice. "Is anything wrong, Hanzo?" You ask, pausing the game you had been playing. "You've been...on edge lately."

He blinks. Was he that easy to read?

"Hanzo, I've known you for quite a long time now. I know you're upset when you have..." You wave your hand over his face, "that look." He cringes. "What look?"

"The 'slightly hot, focused look that makes you look like you're constipated but you don't want anyone to know you are' look."

He blinks once again. "The...what?"

You wave your hand around, dismissing the thought. "Nevermind. Tell me, what's running around in your mind lately?"

Hanzo breathes in. 'You are a Shimada,' he tells himself. 'You are strong.'

"Do you...do you love me?"

He can almost see that you're tempted to laugh, but his intent gaze makes you decide against it. "I doubt that needs an answer." You say softly.

The former yakuza slumps his shoulders. "I know...but..." He tries to string his words together. Eyebrows furrowed, he doesn't look up to you, instead wringing his hands. "It needs saying. D-Does it not?"

Taken aback by his own nervousness, (Hanzo Shimada? Stuttering? A Shimada does not stutter!) he is surprised when he feels you put your hand on top of his, looking up to your softened gaze.

"Hanzo Shimada. I love you. Very much so, and without any doubts. Don't forget that." He feels your lips on his forehead, full of affection and care. For a moment, he melts into its warmth, questioning himself as to why he would ever doubt your love for him when it was so painfully obvious in this one little action.

"Now, tell me what's wrong." You say, your hand still on his. It's comforting to say the least.

"The picture frame." He says lamely. "Our picture frame..." He flushes, feeling a little dumb, his voice trailing away softly as he realizes that he's making such a big deal out of such a small thing.

You blink at him. "Picture...oh, you mean the one with the two of us at Blizzard World?" Hanzo nods.

It's your turn to turn red. "Oh—ah, yeah. I brought it with me to my room. It's because..." You bite your lip and break eye contact, looking away. "I had a nightmare one night. I didn't want to disturb you...you looked too peaceful. It was rare for me to see you like that. I didn't have the heart to wake you up, so I took the picture frame instead so I could pretend you're there with me." You let go of his hand and cover half your face in embarassment. "I know it's stupid. I—I'll put it back." As you stand up and turn towards your door, Hanzo grabs your wrist and stops you. "It's not stupid." He says sternly. Then his voice softens. "You don't need a picture. The real deal is right here."

—

Hanzo Shimada is a very observant man. He notices a lot of things: the way you smile at his lousy attempt at humor; the way your eyes sparkle and the way the edges crinkle when you laugh at his (good) jokes. He sees your small acts of love and kindness: the hot cocoa served the way he wants in the morning; newly cleaned arrowheads in his quiver when he swore they were dirty the day before.

He notices how much you love him.

When he silently slips into your room that night and sees you staring at the picture frame, back turned away from him, he smiles to himself. He gently lowers himself down to your — their — bed and wraps his arms around you. As you lean into his touch and warmth, Hanzo notices something.

He realizes how much he loves you.


End file.
